


With or Without Wings

by Capriccio



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Penguin Falcon, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Steve Rogers Feels, avengers academy inspired, halloween fluff, on your left
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 00:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8424208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capriccio/pseuds/Capriccio
Summary: They pulled up to the store on the outskirts of town, the painted letters out front already faded and peeling from the sun. Steve was hanging back and eyeing the storefront warily, but Sam grabbed him and marched them right in. A bell tinkled as they walked in, and the sleepy-eyed man at the counter looked up at them briefly to say in a thin, papery voice, “Happy Halloween!” before turning back to his newspaper.(Sam ends up wearing a penguin costume. He’s not entirely happy about this. Steve may or may not be.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [significantowl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/significantowl/pseuds/significantowl) for the inspiration and for the beta read. ♥

They pulled up to the store on the outskirts of town, the painted letters out front already faded and peeling from the sun. Steve was hanging back and eyeing the storefront warily, but Sam grabbed him and marched them right in. A bell tinkled as they walked in, and the sleepy-eyed man at the counter looked up at them briefly to say in a thin, papery voice, “Happy Halloween!” before turning back to his newspaper.

Sam nodded respectfully at him and made a beeline for the costumes made for adults at the back of the store. Steve could drag his heels all he wanted, but Sam knew his business. He cast a critical eye over what remained of the costumes, noting that nothing left on the racks looked like it had been made within the last decade. Sighing, Sam glanced up at the hand-made signs, their spidery writing proclaiming that all costumes were 50% off. At least Steve would appreciate that.

“Come on,” Sam said, beckoning Steve over. Steve was poking around in the decorations section doubtfully.

Steve sighed and walked toward him, looking like one of the hanging skeletons was about to come to life and jump out at him.

“Here, I found a couple that might fit you. _Might_ ,” Sam added, shaking his head. He held out a brown fur costume he thought might be a werewolf or maybe Chewbacca, and the other which looked like a Nosferatu-era vampire costume complete with rubber ears and claws.

Steve actually flinched when he looked at them. He stared at Sam incredulously, opening and closing his mouth wordlessly.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you left it too late. This stuff’s picked over by the second week of October if you’re lucky. All the good costumes are gone.” Sam couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Maybe the 1920s German vampire costume wasn’t the best idea. He wiggled the werewolf one enticingly.

Steve shrugged and glanced away. His fingers walked the remaining costumes absently. “We didn’t really have Halloween when I was growing up,” he said. “Not the trick-or-treating part.”

“No?” Sam asked. He put the costumes gingerly back on the rack, which creaked noisily with the weight.

“It wasn’t too popular in Brooklyn when I was a kid, and then they rationed sugar during the war. Not much candy to go around.” Steve blew out a breath, causing a few dust motes to rise up in the air.

“That’s a damn shame,” Sam said, sighing wistfully. “Every year I’d get a mountain of candy. If I played it smart, my pillowcase lasted until the Christmas treats started coming.”

Steve grinned at him. “I bet you give out the best candy now.”

“Damn straight,” Sam said vehemently. He looked around and saw an old broom by the corner, but couldn’t decide if it was supposed to be a witch’s broom or one actually used to clean up. “None of that bite-sized shit, but the real candy bars—if there are any left by the time my little cousins get through with them.”

Steve had bent down to stare at an old goblin mask that could definitely have been haunted. He shook his head and straightened up. “I guess what I don’t understand about Halloween is all these costumes.” He gestured at the mask. “Why would someone dress up as someone they’re not?”

Sam threw him a flat look. “This from the man who wore a costume every damn day and put on a show for folks?”

Steve blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, I mean—that was different. That was still me. And when I’m wearing the suit—” he paused a moment, his mouth twisting, and rallied on, “— _when_ I wore it, that was still me, too. Like you. You’re still you with or without the wings.” He looked at Sam with a smile, the one that lit up his entire face. _That_ smile hadn’t been on Steve’s face in a long, long time.

Shit. Sam scrubbed a hand over his face. He should’ve known this would be a bad idea. That was the thing about Steve: he could never be less than what he appeared to be, even if he tried. He was just as much Captain America in the suit as he was out of it—more, really, now that he’d given up the shield to claim the people, including Sam, that mattered more to him than it did.

“You never wanted to be someone you’re not?” Sam asked. He didn’t feel stupid for asking. Not with Steve.

Steve placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder, clasping it firmly. “Every day of my life until I got the serum,” he said ruefully. He sighed and let his hand drop. “But wanting to be someone else, someone _better_ —that isn’t the same thing as dressing up as a ghost to, I don’t know, to scare people or to throw eggs and toilet paper at someone’s house,” Steve continued.

Sam shook his head in agreement. “That’s never cool, man, but we gotta take the bad with the good sometimes.”

Nodding, Steve shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I guess I’ll never understand the appeal of dressing up as a monster when there are so many real ones walking around. Monsters don’t always look like what you’d expect. And people who look like monsters—aren’t always.” Steve stared at the ground, a furrow between his brows.

“If only it were that easy,” Sam muttered. Steve’s mouth quirked upward, as he shot him a warm glance. Sam cleared his throat. “The way I look at it, this is just a holiday for kids to have fun. They need a little of that in their lives,” he said.

“Yeah, they do,” Steve said quietly. He looked into Sam’s eyes. “I don’t want to disappoint anyone,” he said earnestly. Of course he didn’t.

“All right, all right. You don’t need to wear a costume. Just show up. Half the kids’ll lose their shit just meeting you, and the other half will be dressed as Cap and won’t believe you’re the real thing anyway. You can judge the jack-o-lantern contest or something.”

“But we came all this way,” Steve protested.

Sam threw up his hands in exasperation. “ _Now_ you got the Halloween spirit? Fine. Go ahead and pick one out for me.”

Steve blinked. He look around the store slowly, then turned back to stare at Sam. “Any one?” he asked after a long moment.

“Baby steps, man. Any one.”

“You sure?”

“Cross my heart. They’ll have my head if at least one of us doesn’t dress up, and I’m more afraid of them than you,” Sam said with a shudder. “But—” he pointed a finger at Steve threateningly “—remember I know where you live.”

Steve looked like he’d just been given a handful of Sam’s mother’s hand-pulled taffy and been told he didn’t have to share it with anyone. “I’ll remember,” he said, and his grin lit Sam up from head to toe.

* * *

“I always forget how much of a shithead you can be,” Sam grumbled, trying to keep his footing. A bonfire nearby crackled merrily outside the VA building, giving off more smoke than light.

“How could you forget?” Steve asked, the picture of innocence. He walked next to Sam, slowing his stride so Sam could keep up.

Sam snorted. “All right, fine, I can’t say I didn’t ask for it.”

“I’m sure the kids will appreciate it,” Steve said jovially. A pint-sized Captain America whizzed past them, in the throes of a sugar rush, pursued by an equally tiny Black Widow, complete with glowing wristguards.

“At least _someone_ will,” Sam said, and loftily ignored it when it looked like Steve was trying—and failing—to hide a grin. The kids in question were screeching with excitement, parents and guardians doing their level best to corral them toward the organized games.

“Hey, it was the closest thing to a falcon there. I wanted to give you back your wings,” Steve said. He clapped Sam companionably across his back.

“Ugh!” Sam waddled forward with the momentum and stumbled. Steve caught and held him, almost breathless with laughter.

“Penguins don’t have wings,” Sam muttered. His penguin suit was suddenly much too hot with Steve’s arms around him. He squirmed and flapped his flippers uselessly.

Steve didn’t pull away, and moved in closer, his eyes warm. “Yeah, well,” he said slowly, his gaze sliding down to Sam’s mouth, “you always make me feel like we’re flying.”

Sam tipped his face upward toward Steve’s instinctively, like bird flying home to its nest. “With or without wings,” he repeated.

Smiling softly, Steve leaned forward and drew Sam into a kiss.

Sam closed his eyes, his mouth opening under Steve’s, savoring the warmth of him against the chilly air. Steve was warm and solid, holding onto him unwaveringly as the kiss deepened, turning Sam’s muscles weak. His breath was coming in soft pants when they broke apart. Sam opened his eyes, slightly dazed. Steve was as good at kissing as he was at everything else. Damn him. He blinked to clear his head, then narrowed his eyes at Steve. “You did not just kiss me for the first time while I’m wearing a penguin costume,” he said accusingly.

“I don’t know,” Steve said, laughter in his voice. “Maybe I did. Let me make sure.” He gently grabbed the front of Sam’s costume and pulled him in again, his lips closing in on Sam’s.

Sam did his best to wrap his flippers around Steve’s shoulders, and helplessly kissed him back.

“Yeah,” Steve said quietly, brushing his mouth softly against Sam’s, his voice the only thing Sam heard throughout the Halloween chaos. “I’m sure.”


End file.
